


The Next Contestant

by Sins_of_the_Scruff



Category: Undertale
Genre: F/M, Strip Dancing, Underfell Grillby, Underfell Mettaton, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, a bit of fighting, lotsa angry sans, someday I'll learn how to tag properly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-30 00:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12096774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sins_of_the_Scruff/pseuds/Sins_of_the_Scruff
Summary: Sans doesn't approve of Frisk's new job as it garners too much attention. Too many eyes gazing lustfully at what's his. How long will it take before Sans finds his next contestant for his Bad Time beat down?Theme song for this fic is: The Next Contestant by Nickelback https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vgRaJyUZq2w





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> One of my fics for my new theme, Undermusic! Mostly it's just fics that I've paired up with songs much like my Repo! Genetic Opera/Axetale crossover.

The club right behind Grillby’s bar was the hottest joint in the Monster District. The old, crumbling building was literally vibrating with energy from both the Monster activity that inhabited the place and the crushing guitar and drum beats that filtered through its stereo speakers. Most humans avoided the Monster District like the plague, but some humans were curious by default and little by little, they snuck into the district as it was still highly frowned upon to be seen meddling with monsters. The monsters soon found how easy it was to manipulate humans through their various sins whether it be greed, gluttony, or especially lust. They flocked to the darkened atmosphere of Grillby’s bar and if one knew the right password, were led back beyond the shelves of monster and human liquors to a simple door that held behind its locks, a sordid wonderland filled with debauchery, cheap drinks, and pretty women.

On one of these nights, Sans sat at one of the tables in the back of the room where he could keep an eye on everyone around him. He wasn’t here for the liquor or the women. He only had eyes for one and that was currently his mate who was serving drinks from behind the bar in a too tight, too short mini dress. He was less than pleased when he found what Frisk was doing on the side to help bring money to the table, but when he realized just what she could make in one night and how much she enjoyed it, he gave in. But, stars, why did it have to be this place?! 

Grillby's could make a mean burger and fries with the good mustard, but this was a seedy hole in the wall filled with lesser than desirable monsters and even less desirable humans. Sans glared at the nearby patrons who flocked to his mate like flies to honey as he chewed on the cigar he held between his teeth and inhaled, feeling the pungent, tobacco ridden smoke fill his non existent lungs. Frisk was a bartender in this hell hole and was apparently the favorite of many from what Grillby had to say. Sans was livid when he learned that not only was she doing a job on the side but at a stripper bar no less! One night he stomped up to the joint, bent on dragging her out and away from lustful glances. That particular night did not end well and she ignored him for the better part of the next week.

She only gave in when he finally apologized, much to her surprise. Sans was not the time to give out genuine apologies, if any apology at all, and eventually they reconciled. After a long conversation 'rules' of sorts were set up followed by _lots_ of reassurance from Frisk that she belonged to him and him only. The rule he found out that she already had in place to begin with was no touching...at all. Frisk admitted that any touch was uncomfortable and even at one point was painful. Sans smiled, his bond with her was strong enough that she would tolerate no touch except for his. For the monsters around her that was easy to broadcast, she had bonded with not only a boss monster, but Sans Gaster. Any monster who had a brain knew she was off limits the minute she was nearby. The humans, though? It was near impossible some nights to get the men to leave her be.  
  
Most would leave be once she firmly said, _“No, I'm taken_ " or a _“fuck off”_ followed by a deep set glare from either Grillby or Sans, but there was always someone who would push just a little more and end up on the wrong side of Sans. He had taken numerous humans outside to the alley and _persuaded_ them to leave and never come back. That proved useful until Grillby started to complain that he was driving his business away and sans relented, only to take the trash out when Frisk gave him a sign. She only worked certain nights, but he wished she would take a night off because as more humans wandered in, the more he had to get involved. 

_ "Look, sans, I only work Tuesdays,Thursdays, and Saturdays and only from 8 to 2AM. Grillby is well aware of our rules and while he doesn't like to play babysitter, he does interfere if you're not there to stand watch."  _ Frisk was getting ready for work, applying makeup to her face. Once done, she stood and walked over to sans who was sitting on the bed, frowning.  _ “He shouldn’t hafta look after ya at all. I don’t like seeing all those humans stare at ya like fucking meat on a stick, just wanting a bite.  _ He growled as his red eyelights met hers, _ “Yer mine, Frisk.”  _ She took his skull in her hands and kissed the side of it, leaving a lipstick mark.  _ "There, now you're visibly mine and I'm visibly yours. Don't even think about wiping it off tonight. I'll be looking for it when I come home...maybe I'll leave more if you're good." _

Sans shifted in his seat, his pants now feeling about two sizes too small. He still bore the lipstick mark on the side of his head and any snickers or jokes he received were ignored as he pondered what she would have in store for him. Saturday nights were the busiest and the bar was packed. Grillby would run the bar with Frisk and even though they both knew where they stood with Frisk, Grillby just loved to test sans and flirt with her. He wouldn’t hesitate to go skull to flame with him if he didn’t back off. But, when it was busy Grillby was far more interested in bringing in the cash.

_ “Hey there, sugarskull, whatcha doing back here all by your lonesome?” _ Sans didn’t even move as the scantily clad female monster approached him and all but bared her three breasts at him. He gave her a glance up and down. Pft, not even comparable to his mate’s curves.  _ “Beat it, I got no time for bitches like ya. It’s not like I’d get a lot ‘fer a coupla G, anyway.” _ The monster gasped and then stomped away and sans grinned, tapping some of the ashes off the cigar. It had a been a long day at the car shop and he would like nothing more than to grab his mate and head home for some quality alone ti-

_ “BROTHER.” _

Shit. There went any semblance of a good night. Sans turned to see his brother, Papyrus with his arms crossed and glaring at him. Mettaton was behind and had draped his four arms all over him and was smiling deviously at Sans. He shot a dirty look at him, if there was one thing he disliked more than humans preying on his mate, it was his brother’s shit talking boyfriend.  _ “W-what’s up, Boss?”  _ Sans crammed the cigar back into his mouth to try and alleviate the rising anxiety. Papyrus managed to untangle himself from his boyfriend and sat down across from his brother, still glowering. 

_ “WHAT IS THAT MARK ON YOUR SKULL?” _

Sans could feel his face grow hot, he didn’t have to explain to anyone else why he had the kiss mark, but his brother wouldn’t take no for an answer and had to know anything and everything.  _ “Itsa, itsa a kiss mark, bro. Frisk said I hafta keep it on till the end of the night.”  _ Papyrus cackled,  _ “A KISS MARK?! IS THAT ACTUALLY HOW HUMANS MARK ONE ANOTHER?! HOW SAD. A MARK SHOULD BE PAINFUL, PERMANENT!” _ Mettaton draped himself over Papyrus,  _ “Mmm, and you do know how to mark someone good.” _

It was Papyrus’ turn to blush and he looked away, murmuring something to Mettaton.  _ “Well, my love, the audience calls!”  _ And with that Mettaton sauntered away and into the DJ booth where Napstablook was currently working. The lights dimmed and the men started to hoot and holler as the music started up and women flocked to the stage, stripping to the playing music and gathering tips from the drunken men. Sans grabbed one of many mustard bottles and started to down it, at one point in time this would’ve entertained him, now it just bored him. 

Hours passed and he damn near fell asleep, but his brother jostled him awake near closing time. He sleepily rubbed his tired eyes and looked towards the bar. Grillby was stocking the liquor and wiping down the glasses with Frisk nowhere in sight. He stood up, knocking mustard bottles everywhere much to his brother’s irritation and stomped over to the purple flame fucker.  _ “Alright, Grillbs, where is she?!” _ Grillby didn’t even react as he kept cleaning the glasses,  _ “that’s gonna cost you, Sans. Pay your tab and we’ll talk.” _ Sans growled,  _ “Ya got five seconds to hand her over before I dunk yer head in the sink!”  _

Grillby merely purred from behind the bar,  _ “Careful, sans, the fun hasn’t even begun yet” _ . Sans yanked on his tie pulling him down to his level,  _ “whaddya mean by ‘fun’? And choose yer next words wisely.” _ All of sudden, Mettaton’s voice rang out across the room,  _ “AND FOR OUR FINAL SHOW, A TREAT FROM THE DAME HERSELF, MISS FRISKY BUSINESS!” _

  
Sans nearly choked on air as a silence crept across the room with every patron and even the dancers stopping to witness the performance. Sans growled as he surveyed the crowd to see men, women, and monster alike already staring with lustful intent. The silence was soon broken by the sound of Mettaton switching out his digital mainframe to pull up an old vinyl record player and plug it into the stereo system. A small 45 was retrieved and the needle hovered over the spinning disc.  _ “Now boys and girls, I will remind you only once of the golden rule: you are forbidden to touch or even approach Miss Frisk in any sort of way.” _ Mettaton chuckled lowly, _ “if you choose to ignore the rule…” _ He glanced over at sans and smiled,  _ “well, you’re in for a bad time... Enjoy!” _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk has particular tastes in the lingerie department.

[The sound of a rocking guitar blared through the speakers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-rHhkbPTKxw) as a figure rose from the middle of the stage. Handcuffed and shackled lazily on the pole ascending from the shadows was his mate, who was in a red and black ruffle dress that hid much of her figure to his relief. The pole rose to its full height and she glanced around the room her eyes hidden from others under black lace. Sans swore he felt burning intensity from beneath the lace as her gaze landed on his. She had eyes for him and him only.

As the lyrics began, she broke free of the restraints, tossing them every which way and spinning around the pole, gracefully. Sans was flabbergasted. He had no earthly idea that A. Frisk would EVER do something like this and B. look so damn good doing it. The song approached the chorus and as it did, Frisk began shimmying out of the ruffled skirt, earning whistles and shouts from the audience. Free from the skirt, she kicked it at the men in the front row where they tore and fought for it. 

Whenever she looked out to the crowd she only made eye contact with sans, and for a moment, sans thought it was just her and him in this dingy little shithole. She turned and his eyelights nearly fizzled out when he saw a pair of skeletal hands printed on the back of the black silk underwear she wore.  _ “HEY BABY, I GOT A BONE FOR YOU!” _ Sans quickly got to his feet and located the man who shouted at his mate. There was one going in for a bad time. Grillby snagged his hoodie,  _ “Sans, remember what I said last time. Only if they touch-” _ Sans growled back and shook off his grasp,  _ “Last time she was just serving your piss beer to them, now she’s up there showing off what should be for me!”  _

Grillby finished the glass he was washing, _ “Who said it wasn’t for you? Frisk is the one who asked for this little show. Such a shame she only asked for this once, she seems to be a natural.” _ Sans felt his teeth grinding, _ “Shut the fuck up and keep those embers to yerself if ya know what’s best for ya.”  _ Grillby merely chuckled as sans turned around to enjoy the rest of the show..

Frisk was now on her knees, playing with the hooks that held the bodice together. Sans was shaking his head no, but she nodded yes and slowly started unhooking it one by one. When it was down to one last hook, sans was nearly gouging marks into the bar with his clawed hand while the other palmed at his very apparent erection. She was mouthing something to him,  _ “all for you, just for you” _ and then she ripped the bodice open revealing a bra made of nothing but skeletal hands holding them up and caressing them. The mark that sans made was ever present on her shoulder and she flaunted it for all to see. 

Oh fuck it all, sans wished those were his hands right there, right now. As she moved her own hands all over her body and gyrated rhythmically to the music, sans was sure he was drooling. The dollar bills rained down on her as she sensually rose to her feet and retreated back to the pole. The song was going into it’s final run and she hoisted herself up onto the pole, swinging her legs out to then close and hug the pole. Her movements were sleek and fluid and she twisted herself up, down, and around the pole, much to the delight of the onlookers. 

Frisk ended her performance curled around the top of the pole and slid down elegantly, graciously accepting the flurry of dollar bills that were thrown at her. One of the female strippers came out with a silk robe that Frisk quickly put on and finished picking up the bills. Men and Monster were yelling and whistling asking for personal lap dances to which Frisk only smiled and shook her head, saying her dance card was permanently filled.

Sans was caught between wanting to take her out back to discipline her for the little “show” she put on and fucking her into next week. Both could be done very easily. He watched as she jumped off the side of the stage and began to make her way towards him. She had taken the lace mask off and was smiling deviously at him. He gave a malicious smile of his own back and for a moment, he saw a spark of uneasiness in her eyes. Oh she knew what she was in for.

_ “SANS. THAT WAS...AN INTERESTING SHOW YOUR MATE PUT FORTH.” _

Sans’ head swiveled, eyes glowing brightly at his brother,  _ “That’s enough of yer talk, Paps. Take the conniving sexbot home and fuck off.”  _ Papyrus smiled down at his brother and was about to retort when Frisk yelled out,  _ “HEY, DON’T TOUCH ME!” _ Papyrus quickly stood to the side as sans leapt to his feet. Frisk was trying to wrench her arm away from a drunken patron who didn’t know the meaning the word, “don’t”. _ “Aw, c’mon sugartits, I can do better than that bag of bones can.”  _ A lewd swipe of his tongue over his lips sent her pulling back, trying to twist out of his grip.  _ “Not even in your dreams, asshole.” _ , Frisk managed to snarl back. 

The offender growled back and forcefully yanked on her wrist. A sharp popping noise was heard and she let out a high gasp, crumpling to the floor, cradling her now broken wrist. Silence was met across the bar and the patrons nearest the man, all scooted back and away. A near homicidal throb of magic emanated from sans at the bar as his left eye spilled forth bright red magic. Papyrus had a scowl on his face as he produced two large bones out of thin air. Grillby’s flames danced dangerously as he bellowed,  _ “OUT. NOW.”  _

If there was a problem before, there was definitely a problem now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write strip tease/pole dancing that well. Song that Frisk strips to is Counting Every Minute by Foreigner. Stars, I love that song. Also, sans gets more upset. :o


End file.
